Happy Birthday, Ellie
by IntergalacticVigilante
Summary: Eleanor "Ellie" Pine's life on Earth as it inches toward the beginning of the Great Mushroom War. (Basically a Tree Trunks origin story.) T for language and other possible adult themes in future chapters.


The sharp edge of autumn wind was diluted by the warm sun shining down on the acres of green earth. Pumpkins and squash were neighbors with the almost unbearably tart apples that grew in patches of green. Leaves fluttered lazily, then hurriedly with every occasional gust. If you listened, you could hear soft noises coming from the animals that resided in the fading red barn that sat humbly alongside a little yellow cottage with windows painted baby blue. The beautiful October morning was embracing the little cottage with its promise of a wonderful day.

Inside the cottage, Eleanor Pine sat up in her bed, fully prepared for her 7th birthday. She hopped out of bed and put on a green shirt and a faded pair of overalls. She hardly noticed the holes in her socks as she bounded down the short set of stairs.

"Daddy, daddy!" She leaped into the kitchen to see him standing by the oven with a red gingham apron. She giggled. "Daddy, you look like the old lady at the bakery in town."

"Maybe I _am_ the little old lady at the bakery," Eleanor's father teased. He made his voice high and grumpy sounding. "Don't you put your fingers in my cakes, girly, or your father'll have to pay for every one you touch!" He wagged his finger and wiggled his eyebrows as he spoke.

"Don't be so silly," Eleanor said, trying to suppress a giggle.

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me, girly!" He said in the same old lady voice. He poked her stomach. "I'll rip every inch of icing out of your stomach!"

"Stop, daddy, she's scary enough without you saying those things." Eleanor tried to peek around her father. "What're you making?" She took a big sniff. "It smells real good."

"A special birthday breakfast." Her father said with a wink.

"Like mommy used to make?"

"Her exact recipe."

"OH, is it done is it done is it done yet?!"

"No, not yet." He picked her up and swung her around the kitchen, her swinging legs almost knocking over a vase on the little round table. The vase was filled with dead dandelions from summer.

Eleanor's father carried her into their tiny living room and set her on the couch. Eleanor and her father laughed, but Eleanor quickly fell silent.

"Daddy, I want mommy back." Her blue eyes looked straight up into his, like they were looking in a mirror. "I want to see her today."

Her father smiled weakly. "Not today."

"Not ever?" asked Eleanor.

Her father paused.

"Will I ever see her again, daddy?" Eleanor pressed.

"No, baby. I wish I-" he stopped. Eleanor's short blonde hair looked so much like hers. How many years had it been? Not many, but if he couldn't reach out and grab her hand again then she was too far away. Much too far.

"Daddy, are you okay?" Eleanor asked softly.

"Baby girl, if someone you love leaves you, a little hole opens up in your heart."

Eleanor looked down at her chest worriedly. "Do I have one because mommy's gone?"

"Yes, and so do I. Sometimes the little hole hurts you real bad, and for a long time. But you can make it feel better if you fill it up with the right things." He leaned in close to Eleanor. "Some people fill it up with bad things that eat away at their heart, making them worse and worse. But some people-" he kissed her on the forehead. "Some people fill it with good things. Things like hobbies that make them happy. Things like love from people you meet. Things like the words of someone who understands." He pushed her hair back behind her ears. "Things that help you remember all of the good things you had before that made you happy, and still do."

"Like making mommy's old recipes?" Eleanor asked.

"Exactly. Keep looking for those things, and as long as you have them Ellie, you won't feel sad."

"Daddy," Eleanor said solemnly, "that's a very pretty thing to say, but I think the thing in the oven is burning."

"Oh Lord!" Her father jumped up from the couch and ran into the kitchen. He grabbed the oven mitts from the stove top and reached into the oven to retrieve a very burnt pastry. He set it on the table forlornly.

Eleanor stared at it as its steam rose up to the ceiling. "What was it supposed to be?"

"It was supposed to be an apple pie." Her father said quietly.

Ellie giggled. She ran to the silverware drawer and grabbed two forks, one she handed to her father and the other she used to pull the black top off of the pie. She stabbed an apple chunk from the middle and ate it quickly, the cinnamony goo inside hot on her tongue. "I think it tastes perfect."


End file.
